


Takeaway

by sanguisuga



Series: Aberrant Fragments [19]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Cuddles, First Meetings, M/M, Sharing a Bed, do not copy to another site, pre-Mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/pseuds/sanguisuga
Summary: Mycroft is expecting his takeaway, but what shows up at his door is far more interesting.





	Takeaway

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something, not really sure where it came from, but ta-da! They're a bit younger here, but I don't go into details, so y'know - feel free to imagine them as you like.
> 
> Please do read and comment - the muse is being a flibbertigibbet and driving me up a wall and I'd like to get her focus back where it belongs, dammit!
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies! I wouldn't be anywhere without you guys...

“I was just about to give up on you.”

Mycroft lifted an eyebrow as the hand extended toward him drooped, the bag containing his wayward Chinese threatening to slip to the ground. His irate posture softened as the courier sighed heavily, shaking his head morosely.

“Sorry, mate.” He looked up quickly, his dark eyes wide with chagrin. “But it’s not my fault.” He glanced back over his shoulder at the motorbike that was pulled up on the pavement. “She got a bit of a knock, and I was held up. I tried to call, but I think the bastard broke my phone too.”

Mycroft frowned as he looked at the fresh scrapes on the courier’s helmet. “You look like you may have gotten a bit knocked around too - are you all right?”

The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging awkwardly. “Didn’t really get the chance to check myself out, to be honest. Just hightailed it over here hoping that you hadn’t got me fired already.”

“Heavens, no. I make it a strict policy never to ruin someone’s career prospects before I've had my breakfast.”

A startled bark of laughter burst from the man’s mouth before he was able to cover it with his hand. He stood there giggling wildly in the face of Mycroft’s bewilderment, bending at the waist as he tried to regain his breath.

“Oh Christ, but I’m knackered.”

Mycroft stood to the side, smoothing a hand over his dressing gown as he held the door open wide. “You’d best come in for a little while.” He tried to smile as the man tilted his head inquisitively. “Can’t have you out there causing more collisions.”

Conceding with a wry twist of his lips, the courier stepped in a little cautiously, looking around with interest as Mycroft shut the door behind him. He followed him into the kitchen, placing the somewhat messy plastic sack on the worktop before shucking off his gloves.

Mycroft plucked at the handles of the bag with two fingers, trying not to pull a face. The man shrugged as he fumbled at the straps of his helmet. “Should still taste good. S’not like I scraped it off the street.”

Mycroft sighed as he turned away, taking two plates from the cupboard and gingerly dishing out the chow mein that he had ordered well over an hour and a half ago. He put one plate in the microwave for a few minutes before turning back around, coming up short as he stared at the vision standing at his worktop.

The courier was scowling rather impressively as he ran his fingertips over the scrapes in his helmet. It might have been a frightening expression, if it weren’t for his large, chocolate brown eyes and rather intriguing dimples. His shaggy dark hair was fetchingly tousled and Mycroft gulped as those eyes lifted up to his, the glower dissolving into a sly sort of satisfaction.

“I’m Greg, by the way.” He tilted his chin as the microwave beeped. “Since you’re sharing your dinner with me and all.”

“M-mycroft.”

Greg blinked slowly, his lips turning up as he leant forward. “Suits you.”

Mycroft blushed as he set the plate of steaming noodles in front of his unexpected guest. Not knowing what else he could say, he settled on, “Please don’t wait for me.”

He turned back to put his plate in to heat, swallowing hard as he heard the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down from behind him. He couldn't help but look over his shoulder as the sound was followed by a low hiss of pain, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he caught sight of a considerable bruise forming on Greg's upper arm.

Greg cursed under his breath as he slipped his leather jacket off, lifting up the sleeve on his tee-shirt as he tried to survey the scope of the damage. He smiled gratefully at the bag of frozen peas and tea-towel that was handed to him, dropping a little wink at his benefactor.

Mycroft ducked his head as he felt his cheeks heat, silently holding up a finger as he ducked out of the kitchen and down the hall into the bathroom. He came back with a bottle of pain relievers and an elastic bandage. Greg obligingly held his arm out, briefly steadying the bag of peas as Mycroft wrapped the bandage around it to hold it in place.

Twirling his fork through the noodles in front of him as Mycroft continued to work, Greg casually remarked, “You’re very kind.”

Mycroft snorted as he tucked the ends of the bandage in. “I’m really not.”

Greg chewed thoughtfully for a little bit and swallowed. “Then why?”

Mycroft shrugged awkwardly. “I suppose I feel a bit responsible. If not for indulging my late-night craving, you would not have been put in the path of a negligent driver. It’s my fault you’re even in this situation to begin with.”

“No it isn't.” Mycroft looked blankly at the forkful of chow mein that was presented to him, blinking slowly as he pondered the gesture. Greg tilted his chin in the direction of the microwave. "Yours is going cold again. S'alright. I don't have germs or nothin'." Hardly daring to breathe, Mycroft accepted the offering, his belly flipping as those deliciously dark eyes twinkled at him. “I still would have been out there, just on a different delivery."

Greg scooped some more chow mein into his mouth and chewed with relish. "And now I know why your craving got the better of you. This is good shit."

Mycroft beat a hasty retreat before more could be offered to him, clicking the kettle on and starting up the microwave again. He smiled as blandly as he could. "Quite." He took a mug down and gestured in Greg's general direction with it.

"Ta. One sugar, please."

In between brewing tea and partaking of his own plate of greasy, garlicky bliss, Mycroft snuck surreptitious glances at his guest. At least, they would have been surreptitious if Greg hadn't been staring back at him quite openly and unashamedly. So it was rather impossible to miss the rather face-cracking yawn that Greg let out before he drained the dregs of his tea and started to pick the bandage on his arm loose.

Mycroft hastened to help, returning the melted bag of peas to the freezer as Greg stretched his arm out with a wince. "Still a bit sore, but I think that helped. Thank you."

Mycroft flapped a hand in lieu of accepting his thanks. He bit his lip as Greg picked up his jacket, stifling another yawn into the leather. "Are you sure you're alert enough to be driving?"

Greg frowned as he swayed on his feet. "Prolly not, but I'll be fine once I get out there. The chill will wake me up."

Mycroft clucked his tongue as Greg blinked at him. "I'm afraid it wouldn't be very conscientious of me to send you out there. It might be best if you stayed until morning."

Greg grinned as he decisively set his jacket back down. "If you're offering, I suppose I can kip on the sofa."

Mycroft shook his head slightly. "That certainly wouldn't do your neck any favours." He glanced down as he cleared his throat. "My bed, however, is quite comfortable and there's plenty of room for two." Mycroft made a show of looking at his nails as Greg hummed from somewhere nearby. "If that wouldn't bother you, of course. I could sleep on the sofa instead."

"No chance I'm kicking you out of your own bed, mate." Mycroft looked up as Greg spread his arms. "I'm not bothered if you aren't."

Mycroft harrumphed quietly, trying to hide his impromptu toe-bouncing by reaching out to turn off the kitchen light. “It’s settled, then.”

“Seems so.”

Mycroft clearly heard the laughter underlying Greg’s tone, but it was equally as clear that it wasn’t jest but excitement that the other man was feeling. Since Mycroft was much of the same mind, he simply gestured down the hallway to the rooms beyond. “This way.”

Greg followed close behind, his boots thumping solidly on the wood floor, the leather of his trousers creaking quietly. Mycroft was fairly certain that his heartbeat could be heard even over that noise, and he did what he could to calm it, breathing slowly and deeply as he deliberately turned his thoughts to calmer matters. Of course his brain was feeling rebellious, and the only thing he found himself concentrating on was the fact that he was going to have another person in his bed for the first time in, oh - ever. And that the person in question was a virtual stranger and yet the most appealing creature that Mycroft had ever laid eyes on.

He flipped on the light as he led Greg into his bedroom, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the bed. “So... There you are.” Mycroft glanced at his bureau as Greg drifted toward the bed, his fingers already working at the button of his trousers. “Would you like to borrow some pyjamas?”

Greg smirked at him. “Just sleep in m’pants, usually.”

“Oh, of course you bloody do.” Mycroft ignored the uncharitable laughter that bubbled up out of Greg’s chest, focusing instead on the mobile that he had pulled from his pocket.

Greg shook it futilely. “Dammit.”

Daring to wander a bit closer, Mycroft held out a hand. “May I?”

Greg narrowed his eyes, but still handed it over into Mycroft’s safekeeping. After a brief examination where he found no outwardly visible sign of damage, he took a charging cable out of his bedside table and plugged it in. “Just on the off chance...”

Greg peered around his arm, turning a sheepish look on him when his phone lit up with a power percentage of zero. “Ah.”

Tutting faintly, Mycroft turned around only to come up short as he noted that Greg had already shed his tee-shirt and that his fly was completely undone. Greg backed away, his face taking on an expression of faux innocence as he perched on the edge of the bed and started working his boots off.

Mycroft swallowed hard. “I - I’m just going to...” He flapped his hands in the direction of the bathroom across the hall, making his escape before his face actually burst into flames.

Sequestered behind the door, Mycroft allowed himself a measure of moderately composed panic, pacing in front of the mirror as he tried to shake the trembling out of his limbs. What on earth was he even doing? He had never seen this man before tonight and knew absolutely nothing about him. He could rob him in the middle of the night or... Or take - liberties!

Mycroft abruptly stopped pacing and stared at himself in the mirror as he groped about for his toothbrush. Well, that was kind of the point, wasn’t it? He rather _wanted_ Greg to take said liberties, would even welcome it, no matter how the idea may set his delicate sensibilities into a tailspin. Although Mycroft had a feeling that Greg was quite the gentleman at heart in spite of his rather rough-and-tumble appearance. He rinsed his mouth of excess toothpaste and patted his face dry, drawing back his shoulders as he came to a resolution.

It might just be up to him to start proceedings, then.

Mycroft marched back across the hall, pausing in the doorway to look at his guest. Greg was still sitting at the edge of the bed, stripped down to only his unfairly form-fitting boxer briefs. His head was lowered, his chin practically brushing his chest as his hands dangled between his thighs. The poor man was obviously exhausted, and no wonder. The bruise on his upper arm had come out in multicoloured relief, and Mycroft could see a hint of the same on his left thigh. Whatever misfortune had befell him earlier in the evening, it had left stark reminders and it was clear that his body needed to recover.

Feeling somewhat guilty of his earlier thoughts, Mycroft reached out to gently shake Greg back into awareness. “Bathroom’s all yours. I found an unused toothbrush for you.”

The smile that Greg aimed at him was both sleepy and grateful, and Mycroft felt his knees wobble as it warmed him to his toes. “You’re a gem, Mycroft.”

“I...”

Mycroft snapped his mouth shut as Greg shuffled off to take care of business, sliding into the bed and lying on his back with the covers pulled up to his chin. He resolutely stared up at the ceiling when Greg returned a few minutes later, barely jostling the bed as he climbed in next to him. He reached out blindly to turn off the light, all too aware that Greg had turned on to his side and was facing him. Mycroft tensed almost unbearably as Greg took in a soft breath, tilting his head slightly to acknowledge him.

“If I get too friendly in the night, just shove me off.” Greg chuckled quietly. “I’ve been told that I get ‘handsy’ when I’m asleep and I’d hate to startle you.” He paused as he plucked at the bedding. “I just - like to cuddle, y’know?”

“Well.” Mycroft’s chest hitched as he took in a short breath, forcing it out before taking in another. “Perhaps we should - um - so that nobody gets a surprise in the night. Just to be on the safe side and all.”

“Yeah?”

Mycroft let the smile that he was inexplicably fighting back bloom over his lips, shifting so that his back was turned toward Greg. He threw a terse, “Come here,” over his shoulder and bit his lip to keep from giggling as Greg eagerly scooted closer, his hand already working its way around his waist.

Mycroft wiggled into the curve of Greg’s body as he tucked his knees up behind his, settling down with a sigh that seemed to come all the way down from his toes. Greg hummed behind him, the soft susurrus making gooseflesh prickle all over Mycroft’s body. Melting into the mattress as Greg’s arm first tightened and then relaxed around him, Mycroft took a few minutes to wonder just how they fit together so nicely. He closed his eyes as Greg’s breath washed over his neck in soothing waves, astonished to find that his soft whistling snores weren’t irritating in the least.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd or brit-picked. Characters not mine, but the situation definitely is!
> 
> If you'd like to get notifications and miscellany from tumblr, I'm at 'bitemebat.tumblr.com'. My activity there has slowed considerably since the Great Purge, but I also set up another tumblr just for notifications and other writerly stuff at 'sanguisugaao3.tumblr.com'.
> 
> I seem to be mostly active on twitter now, although the system confuses me and I really don't post much. But still, if you'd like to follow, I'm @sanguisugaao3 there!
> 
> (I'm also over on Pillowfort.io if anyone out there is giving them a shot - as 'sanguisuga'. Same handle on Dreamwidth, but I must confess that I don't do much on either site.)


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